I may or may not have the reputation amongst my friends for only drinking snobby, unheard of beers. Some seem to be under the impression that I refuse to let anything but the finest craft brews flow freely over my tasters. However, I come to you today to tell you that this is only partially true.

There is a single mass-produced beer that I will enthusiastically drink until the day my liver quits. This beer is the legendary, flavorful and magnificently reliable Pabst Blue Ribbon.

PBR isn’t just a beer, it’s a mentality — it’s a way of life. Much in the same way that one adopts a religion as one’s basis for many of life’s decisions, one may adopt PBR as a higher calling. There’s something about the familiar red, blue and silver can (or bottle) that’s just reassuring. It reminds me that there’s still cheap happiness in the universe. Few things bring me greater joy than one of my friends tapping me on the shoulder and saying, “Hey, wanna pick up a 30-rack of PBR and watch half a season of Parks & Rec?”

I developed a soft spot for PBR some time over the last two years. It offered something that Budweiser, Miller and Coors just couldn’t: a non-craft niche. I like to observe the different drinks that different social groups typically consume. It seems to me that PBR transcends more social groups than any other beer on the market; Greeks love it, athletes love it, nerds love it and hipsters (REALLY) love it. I think it’s safe to say that handing someone a can of the alleged best beer in the 1893 Columbian Exhibition in Chicago is a surefire sign of a friendship built to last.

PBR is consistent. PBR is steadfast. PBR is safe. It knows its worth, and it knows it’s great. I can walk down the street carrying a large quantity of PBR without feeling the shame that I would feel if I were carrying the same quantity of Steel Reserve, or worse, Bud Light.

Whenever I’m trying to ball on a budget or play one of my go-to drinking games, PBR is what my eye instantly lands on. Am I going overboard with my adoration of this initially unimpressive beverage? Possibly. Do I sound like the follower of a PBR-obsessed cult? Probably. But does PBR hold a spot in my heart formed from many a night spent tossing back can-after-can that no other mass-produced beer could ever hold? Absolutely.

[email protected]